


Not Gonna Tap Out

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Series: SPN Masquerade Fills [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Manhandling, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6378601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen flirts, teases, and riles Tahmoh until he breaks and takes what he wants.</p>
<p>Of course, that was Jensen's plan all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Gonna Tap Out

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fourth round of SPN Masquerade for the prompt: _Tahmoh strong arms Jensen in bed, shows off his strength. Jensen enjoys how they wrestle each other._
> 
> Original prompt [here](http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/7665.html?thread=2581745#t2581745).

“You want me on my knees for you?”

“It's your fault for looking so pretty when you're down there, Jen.”

Jensen stares at his boyfriend from across the bed. Already his mind is clouded with lust after an evening out spent flirting, dancing, and generally teasing one another to the point of breaking. Riling Tahmoh up until his pupils went dark and his grip turned from sensual to possessive. 

It was Jensen’s plan all along.

He has Tahmoh’s full attention when he whispers, “Make me.”

Tahmoh’s smile is a wicked thing, and Jensen can see what he’s going to do before it happens. That doesn't stop him from letting out an unmanly shriek when Tahmoh practically vaults the bed and grabs Jensen by the upper arm, preventing any attempt at escape. Such an attempt would be just for show, of course, as Jensen has a more than healthy appreciation for his boyfriend’s strength, especially when he puts it to use in the bedroom.

Jensen struggles, blood quickening when it forces Tahmoh to use even more of his power to pin him down. He gropes Jensen roughly, fighting with the buttons on his collared shirt until Jensen is bare from the waist up.

“You think I’m gonna make it easy for you?” Jensen taunts, arms tense as Tahmoh presses him into the bed.

“You never do,” Tahmoh says with a kind of gentle reverence to which Jensen is slowly getting accustomed. Their relationship may be less than half a year old, but they've come to understand one another so well, their desires dovetailing so perfectly, Jensen often thinks he’s living in a dream. 

Reality is so much better. 

He throws back, “You love it,” and fights to keep the smile off his face when Tahmoh replies, “You know I do.”

The words are nearly enough to make Jensen melt, but where would be the fun in that? It’s much more rewarding to make him earn Jensen’s submission, buck against Tahmoh until he gets his boyfriend’s full weight on top of him, knees wide to accommodate Tahmoh’s hips.

The friction is a sweet burn, stoked hotter each time Tahmoh thrusts against him.

“C’mon,” Jensen begs, “do it.”

“Just returning the favor,” Tahmoh says, teeth grazing the side of Jensen’s throat. He knows exactly what Jensen craves and tortures him by not giving in. This won't be quick, and it definitely won't be painless. 

Perfect.

Jensen’s hands rake through Tahmoh’s short hair, the pressure just shy of rough. But he wants that mouth on his, right now. He doesn’t let Tahmoh slow the kiss, lips open from the moment they touch, inscribing his demands with his tongue on the roof of Tahmoh’s mouth. The deeper the kiss becomes, the more Tahmoh’s control crumbles. Still, he holds out for longer than Jensen expects. 

Jensen doubles his efforts, sucking on the tip of Tahmoh's tongue and using every trick he knows until his boyfriend is moaning into Jensen's mouth. He nips at Tahmoh's bottom lip, and the next thing he knows, Tahmoh is rearing back and spinning Jensen over onto his belly, fingers deft and sure as he strips off the rest of Jensen’s clothing, ditching his own in the space of a blink.

Skin to skin, Jensen arches into the slow drag of Tahmoh’s hand along his flank, whining as he's pushed down, made to surrender. He does it again, coming to full hardness at Tahmoh's growl.

“You gonna stay down?”

Jensen says nothing, sticking to the role that serves his desires. But Tahmoh wants an answer, so the next time he asks, the words are hissed straight into Jensen's ear through clenched teeth.

“You want me to stay down?” Jensen asks as soon as Tahmoh's lips finish the short detour they'd taken to meet Jensen's. Throughout the kiss, Jensen was distracted by the fierce grip of Tahmoh's hand on his hip as he ground his cock against Jensen's ass.

“Mmm, now that I think about it...” Tahmoh's chest rumbles. “Maybe that's not what I want.”

For a heart-stopping moment, Jensen is weightless, held in the safety of Tahmoh's capable arms and lifted to his knees. Moved and handled like he weighs nothing, pushed until he’s braced against their headboard, elbows locked so his forehead won’t crack forward against the stained wood.

Tahmoh wraps his arms around Jensen’s chest, his cock confidently slotting between Jensen’s thighs and rutting into the warmth. Jensen is helpless, he has no leverage to thrust, completely at his boyfriend’s mercy. It’s as if Tahmoh is just _using_ Jensen’s body to get off, holding Jensen still while he drives forward, thighs slapping against Jensen’s ass.

And he’s totally fine with it. He wants Tahmoh to overpower him; he’s never come to arousal as quickly as when Tahmoh demonstrates what he’s capable of. At the beginning of their relationship, it was all force and rough hands. Biting and taking. Jensen still has all of that now, five months in, but he also has Tahmoh’s lips soft against his shoulder, feeling the way his boyfriend mouths nonsense against his skin. He has fingers that squeeze and soothe in turns, and a broad chest against his back, not even an inch of space between them, because Tahmoh knows how much Jensen gets off on all that contact.

It’s all fucking fantastic, and Jensen’s on the verge of coming without being touched. The deep slide of Tahmoh’s cock between his legs, the way it drags against his sack, and the vice-grip of his arms is nearly enough. Before the miraculous happens, Tahmoh reaches his breaking point, leaving Jensen’s thighs stained with his come. Tahmoh obsessively fucks through the mess he’s made, muttering to himself, until his cock is too sensitive to continue.

Jensen can’t even manage a deep breath. His chest hurts from the pressure, feeling like he’s about to break apart despite the warm circle of Tahmoh’s arms.

Whatever breath is left in him, though, is knocked out of him when Tahmoh throws him back onto the bed, belly up. Then Tahmoh’s mouth closes around his flushed and tortured cock, and Jensen has nowhere to go but down the spiral. Pinned under his boyfriend’s weight, a slave to his clever tongue. Tahmoh deep-throats him, and that’s all Jensen can take.

Tahmoh swallows with the same ferociousness he's demonstrated in everything else tonight, going so far as to lick Jensen until his skin is clean and tingling, his soft cock well past the point of sensitivity.

Later on, while they’re both letting the hot steam and perfect pressure of Jensen’s shower take away their aches and pains, Jensen checks himself for bruises, touching tender skin where, in a day or so, he might see a bloom of yellow to remind him how thoroughly he was taken apart.

“You look disappointed,” Tahmoh says, drawing Jensen back into his arms when he doesn’t find the marks he was hoping for.

Jensen only smiles. “Guess you’ll just have to try harder next time.”

 

_fin._


End file.
